


Little Bird and The Child of the Stars

by D_f_m22



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Friendship, Stillbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 21:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/pseuds/D_f_m22
Summary: The Doctor discovers something awful when he takes Missy to the Vault.Bill helps Time Lords move on.





	Little Bird and The Child of the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is dark, I'm sorry.

It has always been assumed that Time Lords use looms for reproduction because of a curse of infertility. At some points in Gallifreyan history this may be the case, but for the majority of time Gallifreyans have been no more or less fertile than their human counterparts. The real reason behind widespread loom use is far more complex and has been the topic of several societal, political and anthropological studies published both on Gallifrey- in peace time, before such publications were forbidden, - and off-planet on worlds such as Karn. 

 

The consensus that has been reached by academics across the reach of time is that Gallifreyans use looms because the biological process of reproduction is too complex. While every study has focused on different factors, most agree that the intensity of Gallifreyan relationships, the uniqueness of Gallifreyan life and the strain of carrying and birthing a Gallifreyan new born are the main reasons Gallifreyans from the highest social classes turned to looms. It has also been noted that prejudices within the Citadel also contributed heavily to Gallifrey’s reliance on looms. To a society that teaches its young and best bred off spring that they are the creation of time and stars and all that is great in the Universe, the process of womb-grown Time Tots is too mucky. It reduces both parents- but mainly the mother- to a being that acts on primal instincts. Primal instincts aren’t for Time Lords, they’re for lower species. They’re for species that need to engage in frenzied reproduction for their very survival. 

 

At the Academy, Time Lords born into the right circumstances were taught about the biological capabilities of their species. Womb-grown reproduction was taught at length- but not for academic purposes or by way of a Time Lord sexual education class (that was simply not on the curriculum). Instead, it was taught as a cautionary tale- a warning to any young Time Lords. Of course, to a certain type of Time Lord, such cautionary tales acted more as a ‘how to’ manual than an actual warning. 

 

To young Theta Sigma, the stories were enticing- a way to mingle with world outside the silver spoon society he was surrounded by day in and day out. To Koschei, they were another way to rebel and push boundaries. As with most things in their lives, this made for a terrible combination. Thankfully, for the first one hundred years of their friendship, both Time Lords were male in body and the risk of them rebelling in this fashion was zero. When Koschei regenerated into a very fertile, very attractive Time Lady the whole of Gallifrey knew it was only a matter of time before a mistake of colossal proportions took place. 

 

The mistake of colossal proportions took five years to come into fruition. It was the result of three years of unprotected, un-Gallifreyan relations between Theta and Koschei, a one year and eleven months pregnancy and a month-long birth (academics weren’t joking when they concluded the physical strain was a factor in introducing looms). Born as the second sun of Gallifrey set over Mount Perdition, the mistake of colossal proportions had barely taken its first breath when it was dealt with. Only four Time Lords had known of its existence- Koschei, Koschei’s father, a midwife from the lowlands (killed after the birth along with the mistake) and Theta. Although Koschei’s father had tried to hide the mistake from Theta, it had been impossible. Koschei’s pregnancy hadn’t begun to show until the seventh month and that had given Theta plenty of time to connect with the mistake. By the time Koschei was dragged into confinement in an outhouse on her father’s land, there wasn’t a neuro block strong enough to prevent the paternal bond Theta had formed. 

 

Theta never met his daughter, but there were echoes in his mind of the baby he never held and the futures that were ripped from his hearts. 

 

Koschei never accepted that she’d had a daughter. To her, the echoes were no more than a dream on most occasions. On the rare occasions that she accepted the pain-hazed, foggy birthing month that had taken place some two thousand years ago had really happened, she only ever referred to the ‘mistake of colossal proportions.’ 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

On reflection, the Doctor knew there had been signs from the start. The way she had carried herself as she’d walked out of her cell had been considered and guarded. The Master was always these things- despite the façade of recklessness- but there was something off. It was something he hadn’t seen for over two thousand years. When her eyes had met his, they glistened with not only fear for her impending execution but also something else. He didn’t dare linger on what that something was- too fearful of the consequences and its implications. 

 

“Doctor”

 

Missy’s breezy voice drew him back to the present. He caught sight of her left-hand hovering over her middle protectively and worried at the tightened coat jacket. Shaking himself, he pushed the thought out of his mind and told himself he was being stupid. 

 

The ‘execution’ played out just as the Doctor had planned. 

 

He’d watched pensively as Nardole tended to the unconscious Mistress, the enormity of what he’d agreed to do sinking in in waves. 

 

His eyes lowered to her middle again, he worried at the strange energy he could no longer feel radiating from her and knelt to brush a curl from her face. 

XXXXXXXX

 

It was a crisp spring morning when Bill found herself wandering across campus. Well, she’s almost certain it’s spring but the hopping from time to time and planet to planet really has started to have an impact on the young human. She’d explained her theory on ‘Time Lag’ to the Doctor. He’d remained unconvinced while Missy- to Bill’s surprise- had defended her explaining that it was a perfectly feasible option. Especially for humans that barely had the self-awareness or mental capacity to truly comprehend temporal travel. Bill had been less pleased with the Time Lady’s description of humanity and wondered if there was an intergalactic organisation she could report Missy to for species discrimination. 

 

Probably not. In her short time travelling with the Doctor, she’d learnt that Missy’s views on humans were shared more widely across the universe than the Doctor’s fondness for the species. Alas, Missy was trying to be good (she was very trying) and she at least had the decency to act apologetic when the Doctor called her out on her words or actions. 

 

As Bill meandered around the empty courtyard, she mused the different atmosphere that the campus takes on at the weekend. Gone is the bustling crowds of jovial youth. In its place, an eerie silence blanketed the university. Although it’s wasn’t eerie, Bill corrected herself. It was peaceful and made a change from the usual chaos that came with travelling with a two-thousand-year old alien while holding down a full-time job and trying to achieve a First-class degree. As she took a deep breath, Bill could appreciate the little things for the first times in months. She heard the early morning birds chirping to each other from tree to tee and admired the freshly bloomed daffodils coated in tiny droplets of dew. It was a perfect morning and almost made up for the fact she had the early morning Saturday shift. Starting work at the crack of dawn did have some benefits after all. She could enjoy the unexpected beauty of campus and feel smug about a morning well spent. 

 

The morning sun rose high above the trees and redbrick buildings, casting long shadows across the courtyard. It brightened the horizon and was the first time Bill noticed she wasn’t completely alone in her morning stroll to work. In the far corner, a man and a woman stood facing the grand Oak tree. Their black, Victorian-era garb cut sharp silhouettes in the mist. The man- tall and of slight build- rested his hand on the small of the woman’s back. His finger’s splayed wide and covered the entirety of her petite back. In his other hand, he clutched an odd-looking set of crystal beads. The woman also clutched the mysterious looking beads but also held a small knitted doll and bag of bird feed. Judging by the large group of pigeons and crows and seagulls gathered to the left of the pair, this was a regular occurrence and the hungry birds knew it would soon be breakfast time. Around her slight wrist, a metal bracelet was secured tightly and flashed red every few seconds. 

 

If anyone else had stumbled upon the scene, they probably would have been curious and wondered just who the strange pair were. Bill was still curious but her curiosity had nothing to do with their identity. The matching heads of wild curls-one grey and one brunette- made their identity undeniable. The reason for their presence was the real cause of Bill’s curiosity. For a start, Missy shouldn’t have been out of the Vault full stop. Then there was their strange clothing. Even by their standards, the all-black gothic attire was dramatic. They looked as though they were in mourning like they’d stepped straight out of the Victorian Momento Mori. Except they were both alive, as far as she could tell. Sometimes, both Missy and the Doctor had the capacity to look so time damaged that they could easily pass as dead- barely-living fragments from a time and place so far away that it was beyond Bill’s comprehension. 

 

The young human blinked and tried to draw her attention away from the scene. It was impossible, and her wide brown eyes remained transfixed on the ethereal scene ahead. In a matter of seconds, the Doctor and Missy started to chant in harmony in a foreign language. Bill didn’t recognise it, but she sensed it was ancient and alien. She watched the pair run the chain of beads through their fingers in time with the chanting. The low chant hung in the air, seeming to echo long after the sounds had stopped and intermingling with the chirping of the morning bird song. As the chant ended, Missy walked forward placing the knitted doll in the middle of three tea lights. She knelt in the damp soil, making an odd sign with her hands before bowing down to the ground in a prayer-like position. 

 

Was this a Gallifreyan religious practice? Bill wondered idly. 

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a piercing wail. She watched as Missy’s shoulders shuddered and the Doctor crouched down to help her up. They were grieving, she realised with sudden clarity. The way the Doctor held Missy was the same way her grandmother had held her at her mother’s graveside when she’d been no more than ten or eleven.

 

Bill continued to watch the Doctor whisper in Missy’s ear. She couldn’t understand what he was saying but could take a guess- it looked like he was trying to placate her and then distract her. Bill watched as he reminded her about the bag of seeds in her hand, nodded at the gathering crowd of birds and guided her to the bench. The two Time Lords still had their backs turned from Bill as they made their way to the bench. She knew she should leave now, knowing it was only a matter of time before they turned and saw her. They wouldn’t want to be seen in this moment, she knew that much. Yet still she couldn’t manage to pull herself away from the scene.

 

A crisp breeze washed over her just as the Doctor turned Missy to sit down. He didn’t notice Bill stood there, too absorbed with Missy to notice anything else at all. Missy noticed though. And Bill noticed Missy notice. A cold chill ran down the human’s back, but it wasn’t from the crisp spring air. It was from the Time Lady’s icy eyes. Although Missy was wearing a veiled hat that covered her eyes, Bill could still see the blue orbs that stared out from under the web of lace. Missy looked like a black widow frozen in a chain of grief and anger and hate and resentment. 

 

In that instant, more than ever before, Bill knew how dangerous the Time Lady was.

 

In that instant, more than ever before, Bill knew she should never have seen any of what she had just seen. 

 

In that instant, more than ever before, Bill knew it was time for her to leave. 

 

She didn’t wait around to watch Missy’s lips coil into a sneer but instead turned on her heel and pulled her hood up as she marched double time towards the canteen. 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Missy watched the speckled sparrow hop around at her feet and sprinkled the last of the seeds over the gravel. The sparrow chirped away gratefully and hungrily picked at the seeds. 

 

“Five more minutes and then back to the Vault, okay Missy?” 

 

The Time Lady rolled up the lace of her veil and rolled her eyes. They had been doing this for seventy-one years, she knew the drill by now. 

 

“I know,” she sighed and nodded at the tiny sparrow still feasting on her gift. “This one always hangs around, every year. It’s a clever one.” 

 

“It’s not the same sparrow,” the Doctor said. “The first sparrow died a long time ago.”

 

Missy knew that but ignored him. She tilted her head and observed the bird’s feathers in detail. 

 

“Little birds, the quiet ones that sit and watch and wait in the shadows and try and figure out what’s going on even though their little brains can’t figure it out.”

 

The Time Lady thought back to the little human that had scurried away not even an hour ago. If she’d had wings rather than a yellow raincoat and useless feet, she would have flown away as fast as she could. Instead she had her feet, clumsy human feet that marched their way into wars and revolutions and planets they didn’t belong and marched their way out again just as quickly. 

 

“What are you thinking, Missy?”

 

Missy shrugged and ignored the question.

 

“Humans are curious beings,” she crumpled the now-empty plastic sachet up and shoved it in her pocket. “I don’t mean I find them curious- I find them endlessly dull. I mean they’re curious when they shouldn’t be. They want to know things they have no right knowing.” 

 

“Yes, it’s their curiosity that keeps them exploring and creating and surviving.”

 

“Hmm,” Missy nodded, pulling her veil back down as she stood. “It’s their curiosity that is going to lead to some uncomfortable questions for you. Just so you know, you have my full blessing to disclose whatever you feel you must.”

 

The Doctor looked at her in confusion as though she had spoken in riddles.

 

“What are you talking about?” The Doctor asked.

 

“Just something to remember when the bird starts singing. You remember it all better than me anyway, it’s not my secret if I can’t remember it. Now come on, it’s time for a spot of tea.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Bill’s morning at work flew by in a blur of chips and coffee and hungover students. The busy pace had at least distracted her from the inevitable, impending death at the hands of Missy that she was sure awaited her. It was her final half an hour at work when she heard an excited conversation that caught her attention. Drying her hands, she flung the tea towel over her shoulder and listened. 

 

“It’s creepy, isn’t it?” One student asked. “Kind of like a voodoo doll.”

 

“Yeah,” another agreed. “Where did you find it again?”

 

“That oak tree by the pond. My mate in third year says he’s found one in the same place every year since he’s been here. I’ve considered it and they’ve been appearing every year in the same spot for years- become something of an urban myth, apparently. There’s even a Facebook group dedicated to sightings.”

 

The other student shrugged and gave the knitted doll a wary glance. He took a slow, considered sip of his coffee and offered another shrug. Bill stepped forward and assessed the doll that was causing so much excitement. As she caught sight of the familiar rainbow-coloured skirt and wispy strands of woollen hair, she recognised it instantly as the treasured item Missy had been clutching that morning. Just how many of the St. Luke’s superstitions and legends had been caused by the unknowing Time Lords?

 

“You shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours” Bill said, quite suddenly as she stepped forward and snatched the doll. She might not have known exactly what had happened that morning, but she knew enough to know that the tiny doll was something sacred. 

 

“Alright, love” the student with the coffee chortled. “We’re only messing, keep your hair on.”

 

Bill rolled her eyes. 

 

“It could be a shrine for someone who’s missed, like flowers and teddies that are left at the site of a crash. I’m going to put this back where you found it.”

 

Before either of the boys had the chance to reply, the employee taking over Bill’s shift arrived. For the second time that day, Bill made a quick escape but not before hearing one of the disgruntled students mumble something about it being the time of her month. 

 

Doll in hand, Bill made her way to the Doctor’s office. 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

“Bill,” the Doctor exclaimed in surprise as Bill entered his office. A quick glance at clock above the fireplace reveals it had only just gone two in the afternoon. “You’re early Bill, I can’t go anywhere today. I told you, today’s one of my Missy days.”

 

“I know,” Bill nodded. As she sat down, she shrugged off her jacket and presented the woollen doll she’d snatched back from the other students. 

 

The Doctor’s eyes widened at the sight of the object, darting from it to Bill and back again. 

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

“Some of the students found it by the tree near the library this morning. I saw you there, with Missy all dressed up like something out of a Dickens’ novel.”

 

Swallowing, the Doctor grabbed the doll back in a swift movement. Assessing the precious object, he took a moment before stuffing it into his desk drawer. Hesitantly, he looked over at Bill and tried to gauge her reaction to what she had seen. It was unreadable. 

 

“I suppose you have some questions?”

 

“I do,” Bill nodded.

 

“Okay. It’s a long story and its Missy’s story so it stays between us. She’s given me permission for this, but you still have to promise me it goes no further.”

 

Bill’s brow furrowed in a mixture of curiosity and concern. She didn’t think the Doctor was really going to tell her. Narolde stumbled into the Vault, placing down his basket of cleaning supplies and letting out a long sigh. 

 

“The Vault’s clean and Missy’s settled playing the piano. I told her you’d be down to see her later. Oh, Bill- you’re here. What are you doing here?”

 

Bill went to open her mouth, but before she could the Doctor had jumped in. 

 

“I owe her an explanation. Will you get us some tea and some of the nice biscuits.”

 

“Oh,” Nardole stuttered. “I see. Is it the explanation I think it is?”

 

The Doctor nodded and Nardole looked down. 

 

“You will need the nice biscuits then. Would you like me to add a drop of whisky to the tea?”

 

The Doctor nodded. 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Bill’s hand coiled around the warm, ceramic mug. Her fingers tapped against the side of it as she waited for the Doctor to start. The Time Lord in front of her was breaking up a Viennese Swirl into tiny bits, doing anything to avoid the human’s glare. 

 

Guilt sat heavy in his stomach and no amount of whisky could make it go away. 

 

“So,” Bill said as the clock struck three pm. 

 

“So,” the Doctor responded. “So, the first thing you need to know, Bill, is that I’m not a good man.”

 

“Doctor,” Bill laughed, thinking it was a joke. Her face froze when she saw his serious expression. “Doctor, you’re the best man I know.”

 

“Best doesn’t mean good, Bill, and this isn’t a pity party. I’m not a good man, but I’m not a bad man either. Missy showed me that, in her own way. I’ve done bad things and what I’m about to tell you is one of those bad things. It was an accident but that doesn’t make it any less bad.” 

 

“Are you okay?” Bill asked, leaning forward. “You don’t sound okay.” 

 

“I’m okay, Bill.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “I killed Missy’s second daughter. It was an accident, but my actions killed her.” 

 

The Doctor sat back, expecting outrage or disgust or shouting. There was just silence. 

 

“Okay,” Bill said steadily. “You’ve got to tell me what happened now.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

A muffled whine from the darkened corner of the room is the first thing that alerts the Doctor that Missy has returned to the land of the living. It had taken nearly a week and the Doctor hadn’t left her side once. 

 

“You can stop the dramatics, Missy” he sighed sternly. “It’s just us.” 

 

Missy didn’t say anything, mumbling to herself and curling in on herself. She was still dressed in the clothes they’d brought her in to the Vault in, hair still tied up and make- up stains on her face. The Doctor took a few steps towards her. As he got closer, he noticed she was shaking and taking deep, painful breaths. He looked over her form and caught sight of blood on the back of her skirt. Crouching down, he reached his hand out to stroke her back. She jumped- nearly out of her skin- and turned around pressing herself into the corner of the room. Head resting atop her knees, she started to rock back and forth. The Doctor stood back, mind racing as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Missy remained shaking in the corner, mumbling to herself. Sometimes, her mumblings were in English but most of the time they were in Gallifreyan. Straining his ears, the Doctor recognised some of the mumblings as prayers and chants from their home planet. 

 

“It feels weird,” he heard her say once the prayers had stopped. “It’s still here but it’s not here. What’s happened?”

 

The Doctor crouched down and shook his head, trying to take her hands and sighing when she jumped away. 

 

“What’s going on Missy?” 

 

More mumbling.

 

“Missy.” 

 

“I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know why you’re here and I don’t know what’s going on. I know it’s not here anymore though, but it is here.”

 

He watched as Missy looked up at him from under a mass of knotted curls, foggy eyes considered his every move and her arms wrapped around her middle in a desperate attempt to hide something. 

 

Something the Doctor had been pretending not to see since he’s encountered Missy awaiting her fate. 

 

“You’re safe, Missy” the Doctor soothed. “I want to examine you. Is that okay?”

 

“I’m safe,” Missy parroted. “You want to examine me.”

 

Her voice was croaky, vocal chords evidently damaged from whatever she’d experienced in captivity. The Doctor held his hands up in surrender, trying to show her he was no threat. Kneeling, he ducked his head and pressed his forehead to her collarbone, muttering reassurances in ancient Gallifreyan. Missy stilled at first but relaxed as she recognised the ancient Gallifreyan ritual. It seemed to calm her, or at least reassure her of his intentions. 

 

“Mistress,” the Doctor murmured. “My Mistress, may I examine you?”

 

“You want to examine me. I don’t know what’s happening, Doctor. I don’t know where it’s gone.”

 

The Doctor swallowed gravely. He eased her up and led her across the sparse Vault. There was no furniture and he hadn’t added any of the extra rooms that would be needed so they had to make use of one of the corners. Stacking up some pillows he’d brought off the Tardis, he fashioned a make-shift bed. 

 

“Sit down there, gently does it.”

 

Missy was still guarding her middle, more out of instinct than conscious choice. 

 

“It’s gone, Doctor.”

 

“Okay, Missy. You just get yourself sat down.” 

 

She was pliant, letting him guide her but clearly unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. Gently he forced her hands away from her middle and helped her out of her jacket. By the time she was in her vest, her rounded middle was evident. The Doctor gulped and looked down at her. He sat back on his heels and tried to let the enormity of what he was seeing sink in. 

 

Guiltily, his first thought was to liken her to a stray cat that had gotten into trouble. 

 

Missy’s gaze shifted downwards and then towards the Vault’s doors. He pre-empted her movements just in time and, as she made to bolt for the door, caught her in his arms. She looked like a trapped animal- scared and desperately seeking an escape. She thrashed and screamed for a few seconds before exhausting herself and freezing in his arms. 

 

“Where do you think you’re going, Missy?” He cooed, stroking her hair and kissing the side of her head. “You’re not going anywhere, and you can’t go anywhere in that condition.” 

 

He listened to her shallow breathing and tried to pick up the infant’s imprint. 

 

There was nothing.

 

“What condition?”

 

“Missy, you understand, don’t you?”

 

Missy shook her head. The Doctor felt the Time Lady shudder in his arms and watched her eyes become razor sharp. There was a gush of fluid from between her legs, the Doctor struggled to hold her firm as a low whine turned into a howl of primal pain. There were few seconds of silence as Missy came back to herself and the Doctor rubbed small circles in her back. 

 

“Doctor, why are you here?” Missy stammered in confusion. 

 

“Later, I’ll explain later” he replied. He ran a hand over his face and swallowed harshly. “What’s happened to you, Missy?”

 

Missy doesn’t respond. Instead, her face creased as another wave of pain crashed over her. The Doctor’s eyes widened in concern for his friend as he tried to formulate a plan.

 

“I,” Missy panted, grounding her teeth and collapsing onto her knees. “I made another mistake of colossal proportions, didn’t I?” 

 

“No, no Missy. You haven’t done anything wrong. What did they do to you?”

 

He asks, but he already knows.

 

“Who?”

 

“No one, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter right now.”

 

Missy doubled over again. The Doctor rubbed her back again.

 

“Oh no, no, no” she whined to herself. “At least you won’t have to take care of this mistake like they did with the other one. It’s not here, it’s gone.” 

XXXXXXXX

 

Bill gawped at the Doctor and waited- with as much patience as she could muster- while he took careful sips of his tea. She watched his hands tremble and saw tears in his eyes. She opened her mouth several times, unable to think of anything to say and realised there really wasn’t anything that could be said. Nevertheless, humans always tried to speak when there was no need.

 

“She was pregnant when you brought her back to the Vault?”

 

The Doctor looked up and nodded. Suddenly, he looked every second of his two-thousand years. As Bill considered his face, she knew that he had the power the burn planets. 

 

“Who…who was the father?” 

 

“I don’t know,” the Doctor shrugged. “But I’m the only consensual partner she’s ever had and I’m not the father. I’ll let you fill in the gaps.”

 

Bill gasped, she hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t stop it. 

 

“You mean?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Bill looked down and felt completely helpless all over.

 

“The baby died?”

 

“It…She…I mean she…was dead by the time Missy was brought into the Vault. That was what she’d been trying to tell me. She didn’t understand what was happening. She didn’t even know she was pregnant, Bill. It was just like her first daughter, she didn’t know then either. Not until it was too late, and they had taken her away into hiding. That…that’s another story.”

 

“How could she not know?”

 

“We’re different on Gallifrey. We don’t reproduce the same way- it’s too much of a strain on our bodies. When a Gallifreyan female is pregnant, she…she changes, and I can’t explain it, but they lose sight of things. They focus completely on their baby, but they often don’t realise why they’re acting a certain way. It takes another one, usually a partner, to notice what’s happening to them. Their minds go strange and Missy, bless her, has always had a strange mind anyway. Oh, she was so confused, Bill.” 

 

Bless her? Bill thought to herself…Was he really talking about Missy?

 

“Babies dies, Doctor. It’s sad…It’s really sad but it’s not your fault.”

 

The Doctor took a deep breath and hid his face in his hands.

 

“The baby was alive until the electric shock.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Gallifreyan births are never easy and Missy’s second birth was no exception. It didn’t quite last the full birthing month that full-term pregnancies did, but it was close. The delirium that Missy experienced for the last ten days of the process was the worst for the Doctor to watch. He’d had no pain relief to offer her and cold only hold her hand and stroke her hair and place a cool compress on her sweaty forehead as she laboured. Every time she awoke from a fleeting slumber, he had to patiently explain what was happening all over again. 

 

It was harder, birthing a child that was no longer alive, but, on the fourth day of the third week the ordeal was over. The tiny baby girl was still and perfect but an unhealthy shade of blue. The Doctor had laid the infant across Missy’s chest, wrapping them both up in one of his old dressing gowns. 

 

Missy blearily looked down at her dead daughter for all of five seconds, muttering something to herself before falling into a healing coma. 

 

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor sighed into the now-silent Vault. 

 

Three days later, Missy awoke to find the Doctor taking her pulse. Licking her cracked lips, she looked down at the dead weight on her chest and crumbled.

 

“Oh, I see” she sniffed as she regained composure. “I see what happened now.”

 

The Doctor coughed.

 

“You were amazing, Koschei. You did amazingly.”

 

“Not amazingly enough.”

 

The Doctor looked down. 

 

“We need to bury her, Kos. There’s a tree nearby and I was…”

 

The words died on his lips, but Missy knew what he meant.

 

“Yes. The tree. Yes.”

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

“You’re always sorry. It’s changes nothing.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

The Doctor didn’t realise he was crying until Bill reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Angrily, he rubbed his palm across his cheeks. Bill tried to offer comfort, but how could you comfort an Alien older than your civilisation?

 

“We buried her by that tree in the courtyard. Me and Nardole did the heavy work, Missy was still recovering but we bundled her up in an old wheelchair. She caught an awful virus after that but she couldn’t not be there. Today’s the anniversary, we mark it every year.”

 

“Did she understand it? Does she understand it now?” 

 

The Doctor shrugged.  
.

“It’s varied. She understands it more now but there are still days where she doesn’t. It’s easier when she doesn’t remember.”

 

“Not for you.”

 

“No, but it is for her.”

 

Bill frowned. 

 

“Bill, if you’ll excuse me but this is one of my Missy days.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

It’s late when the Doctor finally gets down to the Vault. Missy’s sat poised at the piano, playing a melancholic melody. As soon as the Doctor enters, she senses his guilt in her mind and hearts. 

 

“You told the little bird?”

 

“I told the little bird.”

 

The Doctor joins her at the piano, rests his head against her shoulder and sobs.

 

“I’m so sorry, Missy.”

 

Missy start to play rock a bye baby, turning her head and kissing his head and smelling his scent. 

 

“I forgive you.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

A year later, the same commemorations are taking place at the same tree. 

 

This time a golden plaque sits in amongst the offerings of the shrine, encrypted with a dedication to the time baby of the stars. Bill never told the Doctor how many Saturday morning shifts she had to complete to afford the plaque.

 

It was worth every second, though.


End file.
